


Corruption of the Self

by Grayhall



Series: Grayhall's Gallery [2]
Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Age Progression, Aging, Alcohol, Clothing Porn, Corruption, Crossover, Eye Color, F/F, Masturbation, Non-Consensual, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Smoking, Transformation, doll tf, doll transformation, personality change, petrification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 17:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grayhall/pseuds/Grayhall
Summary: While fleeing her Shadow, Yukiko is rescued by a witch ready to craft the first work for her personal gallery.





	Corruption of the Self

**Author's Note:**

> Written with wonderful beta editing assistance from my friend rain!

How long had she been trapped here?  Days?  A week?  Longer?  Did time even exist in this twisted castle?  Yukiko struggled to breathe in the thick, all-consuming fog.  Her empty stomach growled with hunger, and she had been suffering frequent dizzy spells from the severe dehydration.  There was a door ahead; maybe there was food behind it?  A chest, holding something that would quench her thirst?  Her blistered, bruised feet begged for rest, but she staggered ahead.

Yukiko’s head began to swim, and she leaned against the door for support.  The monsters in the castle were still too close; sounds of their movements filled the halls.  Rustles, whispers, and grunts—and a laugh, an unnerving, upsetting laugh that sounded far too much like her own voice.

_That princess again._

The dizzy spell passed, and Yukiko pulled the door open.  The sudden light nearly blinded her as she stepped inside, and her foot caught the edge of her kimono, sending her tumbling forward with a gasp.  Panicking, she threw her arms out in front of her, only to land unexpectedly on a soft cushion.  “Oof!  W-What?”

Dazed, she lifted her head, pushing herself away from the…sofa.  A sofa that had broken her fall.  The plush red cushions matched her favorite sweater.  It also bore no resemblance to what few furnishings she had come across in the strange castle.  Had she found her way into a part of it she hadn’t explored before?  Yukiko pulled her legs over the rounded armrest and sat, too exhausted to do anything but slouch and gaze ahead.  Across from her was another couch of an identical design and an ornate, low wooden table.  She ran her hands along the cushion she sat upon: smooth and velvety, it was the most comfortable she had felt in…however long she had been in that awful castle.

_Am I still **in** that castle?_

The walls of this room were painted a soft rose, and everything was well-lit.  The dense, claustrophobia-inducing fog that permeated every inch of the castle had vanished.  Warranted or not, the tension in Yukiko’s strained, starving muscles eased.  “Oh my god.”  She took a deep breath, one made easier by the far less oppressive atmosphere.  _I have no idea where this is, but if it’s not that suffocating nightmare palace—_

“There you are!”

Yukiko’s heart jumped.  _No._   She turned her sore neck toward the too-familiar voice.  _Please, no._   Her teeth clenched, shoulders tensing at the figure standing beside the sofa.  _No, no, no.  Why?_   Dressed like a princess that wouldn’t be out of place at Disneyland, a young woman looked back at Yukiko with a smug leer in her golden eyes.  But her face.  Her hair.  Everything else about her—

“You.”  Yukiko felt numb.  _How am I looking at myself?!_

“‘Me’ who?”  The lookalike laughed.  Not with Yukiko’s own goofy, unflattering laugh, but one that sounded arrogant.  Sinister, even.  “Surely you can recognize your own face, _Me_.”

Yukiko held her head and tried to focus through her daze of dehydration.  “You’re me?  But that’s not possible.”

The denial seemed to excite this strange Princess Yukiko.  Her smile broadened, she leaned forward, and Yukiko received an unacceptable eyeful of her own cleavage.  “Oh, isn’t it?  I’m here, you’re here.  Though I will admit that not even I’m sure where _here_ is now.”

“You don’t know?”  Yukiko asked.  “But that castle—”

“The castle is ours, no question.  It’s as much a reflection of you as I am.”  Princess Yukiko glanced around the room with evident disgust.  “But I have no idea who owns this drab estate.”

“Drab?”  Not more than a few feet away, there was an ornate brick fireplace.  The mantel was decorated with elegant candleholders and small feminine statuettes.  Above the mantel hung an oil painting, an older woman of European heritage with brunette hair in long ringlets and an old-fashioned golden dress.  And those piercing, green eyes.  Was the portrait looking back at her?

Yukiko shuddered and diverted her gaze.  “This place?  Drab?”  There were many words that she might have used to describe the décor.  Opulent.  Expensive.  Unsettling.  Creepy.  ‘Drab’ wouldn’t dare be on the same list.

Princess Yukiko crossed her arms and scoffed.  “Hmph.  This is absolutely nothing compared to the castle.  Or the inn—that damn little bird cage.”

“I-I wouldn’t say that.”  As much as Yukiko didn’t agree with her double’s assessment of their current location—wherever they were—her comment about the Amagi Inn stung.  She'd never think of the inn that way—not how the ancient framework surrounded her like bars, nor how the delicate paper panels might as well be the most solid of glass.  Nothing like that.

“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you?”  Princess Yukiko put her gloved hands on the seatback and leaned over, her identical face close enough for a kiss.  She smelled faintly of rose perfume.  “And would you deny that you and I are the same person?”

She would.  She’d even gladly pull double-shifts at the inn, even if she collapsed like her mother, if it meant she didn’t have to answer to this girl, nearly her double in every way.  Even _looking_ at her brought up uncomfortable thoughts, memories she didn’t dare let surface.  “But that—it doesn’t make sense.  How could you be me?”

A third voice interrupted the conversation.  “Because she _is_ you, my dear.  Or a part, at least.”

Both startled, Yukiko and her princess double turned to the newcomer, who stood near an open door on the far side of the room.  It was the woman from the portrait wearing the same ornate golden dress.  Yukiko watched, flummoxed, as the woman unfurled a matching fan and strode into the room.

Princess Yukiko giggled.  “Well, I don’t know who you are, but you _are_ right.”

“I don’t understand.”  Yukiko shifted in her seat, the rumpled fabric of her kimono sliding against the plush cushions to her back and rear.  She was too exhausted to run, or even stand, and the appearance of the mysterious woman did nothing to ease her confusion or anxiety.  She wanted to curl up in a ball, sink into the couch, wake up in her futon back home.  “H-How are you me?  You can’t—”

Princess Yukiko laughed.  “Oh, I can’t?  I know how you really feel.  About Inaba, and the Amagi Inn.  You’re _trapped_ , aren’t you?  Caged like a bird, unable to escape everyone’s expectations?”

“S-Stop it.”  Yukiko shivered.  _I hate that you’re right.  I hate that._   “I don’t want to hear it anymore.  This is ridiculous.  You’re not—”

“No, no.”  The stranger interjected herself once more into the conversation.  “Don’t bother arguing with her, Miss Amagi.  Your denials are what she wants to hear.”

Yukiko fell silent.  Whoever this woman might be, her words did have sense to them.  The princess seemed to take delight whenever Yukiko denied they were the same.  She looked up at the woman, and then back at her double.  The princess, furious, had turned her full attention to the ringlet-haired interloper.

“And just who are you, getting involved in our conversation?”  Princess Yukiko’s golden eyes seemed to glow as she glared at the woman.  “I’ve been waiting all my life for a _prince_ to come to my rescue.”  She crossed her arms, smirking.  “Not for some old witch to poison me.”

“Well, I certainly am a witch.”  The strange woman batted her eyelashes.  “But poison you?  Oh, gracious, no.”  She pointed to the empty couch, opposite Yukiko.  “Now kindly take a seat, young lady.”

Princess Yukiko’s voice rose.  “You expect me to sit on comm—”  Her body jerked forward.  “H-Hey!  How dare you?  Stop this at once!”  The demands fell flat, and like a marionette, the princess’s limbs were tugged by unseen forces until she took a seat on the couch.  “I won’t stand for this.”

The woman laughed.  “No, you certainly won’t.”  She stood between the Yukikos at the end of the low table, fan pressed to her bust.  “Now, I apologize for the sudden entrance.  I’m Hilde, your hostess.  Is there anything I can get you to drink?”  She glanced at Princess Yukiko.  “A spot of tea perhaps?”

_Tea?_   The word alone sounded like heaven to Yukiko.  She licked her dry lips and barely wet them.  “Please.  Tea, water, anything.”

“Oh?”  Hilde folded her fan and slipped the end under Yukiko’s chin.  “Here now, let me get a good look at you.”  Yukiko looked up, her brown eyes meeting Hilde’s green.  “Hmm.”

Yukiko blinked and remained silent.  _Why is she looking at me like that?_   The way that Hilde examined her…it didn’t feel like she was checking her health.  It was more like—what was the word?  She drew blank after blank, her mental faculties almost spent.  But after a long, uncomfortable moment, it came to her.

_An appraisal._   That’s what it felt like.  Hilde looked at Yukiko the way that she herself might look at textiles in the shop run by Kanji Tatsumi’s grandmother.

Or was she just imagining things?

“Is something wrong?” Yukiko asked.  _Beyond this nightmare I’ve fallen into?_

“No, nothing.”  Hilde stroked her chin.  “I do believe I know how to best resolve this.”  She turned to the door.  “Aqua, my dear?  You may enter now.”

The door swung open.  In stepped a young woman, dressed like a perverted idea of a western maid.  She held a silver serving tray, and moved with an unnatural, almost robotic stiffness.  A large, ornate key slowly unwound in her back.

Yukiko only managed a short, blank noise before her tongue caught.  _Why is this nightmare still going?  Why can’t I just wake up?  Why is all of this happening to me?_

Princess Yukiko giggled.  “What are you so upset about, Me?  Does the little maid dolly scare you?”

“Ah-ah!”  Hilde pointed her fan at the princess.  “No insulting my maid, Shadow.”  She stepped to the side and let Aqua place the tray on the table.  “Aqua is very precious to me, and I want her to feel good about taking care of guests.”

What had Hilde meant?  “Shadow?”

“There’s no use in hiding it.”  The princess, or Shadow Yukiko, seemed to shrug off her warning.  “I’m a Shadow.  _Your_ Shadow, Me.  _I_ am the true self.”

“But you—you’re not—"

Hilde put a hushing finger to Yukiko’s lips.  “No, dear.  She’s trying to trick you again.  The more you voice your denials the stronger she’ll get, and I really don’t want to waste Aqua’s time cleaning up after a large bird in my home.”

Yukiko bit her lip.  She had no idea if she could trust Hilde, but if she was telling the truth, why give in to her ‘Shadow’?  Her silence, however, seemed only to provoke Shadow Yukiko further.

“You’re pathetic, Me.  Taking the words of some strange witch over your own self?”

Yukiko sat very still, determined to ignore the Shadow’s goading. Instead, she watched Aqua, the clockwork maid, who stood at the table’s side, her face a frozen mask.  The fine details in her face, from the shape of her cheeks to the slope of her nose and the curve of her lips, were flawless.  Even her blue hair was styled with care under her frilly headband.  Despite her exhaustion, Yukiko found herself marveling: where had Hilde found such an elaborate doll?

At Hilde’s gesture, Aqua bent at the waist, set the tray on the table, and began her task.  Yukiko examined the tray’s contents, and then rubbed her eyes.  _A pot of tea and a serving bottle of sake?_   Curious, she shifted in her seat and watched Aqua pour a hot cup of green tea.  _Oh, thank you.  Thank you._   She readied herself to accept the hot cup, ready to gulp it down and ease her thirst—only to watch as Aqua offered the first cup to her Shadow.  Yukiko’s hands, so eager to claim her drink, fell in her lap.  _No.  No, please.  Please, just one cup.  My Shadow or whatever she is doesn’t need it.  I do._

“And I suppose I should thank you?”  Shadow Yukiko took the offered cup in hand, and then raised it to Yukiko in a mockery of a toast.  “Here’s to you, you hopeless, trapped little—”

“That’s quite enough, Shadow.” Hilde slapped her fan into the open palm of her hand.  “Aqua, do hurry to serve Miss Amagi. The poor girl looks like she’ll pass out at any moment.”

Yukiko eyed the maid as she moved to finally serve her own drink, but Aqua didn’t reach for the tea pot.  She instead picked up the sake bottle and cup.  _What?  Why?  Sake won’t make me better.  I need water.  And I’m not even old enough to drink.  Why?_

Aqua offered the fresh cup of liquor, and Yukiko, despite her questions, accepted.  She glanced up at her host, who stood by with a slight smile as Aqua did her duty.  Despite all her questions and frustration, Yukiko could manage only one word.  “Sake?”

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Miss Amagi.”  Hilde nodded to her.  “But don’t you worry.  One sip, and you’ll feel much better.”

Shadow Yukiko glared at Hilde.  “Tea for me, and sake for the pathetic me?  What sort of stupid game is this?”

“There’s certainly nothing stupid about it from where I’m standing.”  Hilde gestured to the Shadow’s cup.  “Now…I suggest you drink up.”

Shadow Yukiko sighed, her tone heavy and melodramatic.  “If I must to be finished with this ridiculous farce, then so be it.”  She raised the tea cup to her lips and sipped.

“You too, Miss Amagi,” Hilde urged, indicating the sake cup in the girl’s shaking hand.  “Drink it down, and I promise you won’t regret it.”

Yukiko sighed her own sigh, soft and quiet.  _I should just get this over with._   She raised the small cup and tilted her head back into the sofa cushion.  The sharp, burning taste of the drink confused her tongue; part of her wanted to spit it out, but she forced herself to swallow.  She half-expected to cough the burning liquor back up her bone-dry throat, but it flowed down with surprising ease.  Lowering the cup, she gasped.  Her eyes no longer felt sore and tired, and her deep exhaustion melted away, as though a heavy weight had finally been lifted.

“So, are you feeling better?”  Hilde’s voice sounded as if she was confident in the answer.

“I—”  Yukiko felt a rush of energy return.  “I do feel better.”  She sat up out of her slouch and rubbed her no-longer-aching head.  Her mind now clear, she realized the growling in her stomach had also ceased; her belly felt full, like she had eaten a proper meal at the inn not too long ago.  “But how?”

Hilde smiled.  “Care for another?”

“Please.”  Yukiko held out her cup for Aqua to refill.  The first drink had made her feel so alive.  Her vision had cleared, her strength returned, and her breathing had grown easier.  How could another hurt?

“Well, aren’t _we_ an eager drinker.”  Shadow Yukiko set her cup down.  “Though even I’ll admit I’m surprised at that.”

Yukiko rolled her eyes.  _Nobody asked you—or me, or whatever you are._   Once the clockwork maid had served her refill, Yukiko leaned back against the couch, relaxing.  She peered into her cup to admire the drink, and then glanced up at her obnoxious double.  For the first time in what felt like ages, she grinned a mocking grin of her own, eying first the Shadow’s empty teacup, and then the Shadow herself.  “You’re not going to have more tea?”

“W-Well…” For the first time, Shadow Yukiko seemed uncertain.  “I don’t really want any, but…it was good.  I wouldn’t say no.”  The Shadow sounded perplexed by her own words as Hilde directed Aqua to pour her a second cup.  “But this—it doesn’t seem right.”  She picked up her refilled cup.  “I feel like we’re in danger here, but…”  She raised her cup to her lips, taking a long sip.

Yukiko took that as a cue to down her own drink.  She felt giddy, even eager, for the taste of the strange liquor.  Her throat more agreeable to the strong taste of the alcohol, the drink washed down and filled her with a pleasant warmth.  “Mmm.”  She savored the lingering taste, smiling across the table at her Shadow.  “Danger?  I don’t feel like I’m in danger.”

“B-But—” The Shadow stammered and fell silent.  She seemed smaller somehow; the intimidating presence she carried had vanished—or was that just the sake talking?

Yukiko’s whole body tingled. The wrinkled, soiled kimono she wore felt electric against her flesh.  The cup slipped from her fingers and fell to the carpet, where her shifting foot pushed it away.  She stroked herself: her arms, her neck.  She felt heat building between her legs; the soft swish of silk-clad thighs rubbing together made her bite her lip.  “Ooh.  Oh, gosh, oh—oh _fuck_.”

“M-Me?”  The visibly nervous Shadow twisted a bit of her long hair around a finger.  “I’m telling the truth.  This isn’t right, you know.  This isn’t—this isn’t _you_.  Stop it.”  She clutched her tea cup.  “Please.  I feel strange, and I don’t like it.”

Yukiko’s breathing grew ragged.  She pictured herself ripping open her kimono and just giving in to the urge to masturbate—that Hilde and Aqua were her audience somehow made the idea even hotter.  She rubbed herself through her clothing, feeling a damp patch between her legs.  _Not me?  What makes her think she ever knew me?_   She pressed deeper, shuddering, her whole body on fire.

“Snap out of it, Me!”

Yukiko kept pushing—kept rubbing, even as everything blurred around her, Aqua’s stillness and Hilde’s pleased smile and the Shadow’s desperation.  Never in her life had she been so hot, so needful.  She was a mess, a _filthy_ mess, covered in sweat and grime from days upon days of being lost in that _damned_ castle, and now these _disgusting_ clothes were only in her way.  _I just want… to slip out of this kimono… and…_

She was so close.  Her legs were stretching, straining with tension as her slender thighs and calves pressed and shook against each other.  The sensation spread through her hips and ass, her waist, her chest and arms and even up her face until every fiber—every cell in her body, bone to muscle—all shrieked in burning, unnatural pleasure as she came.

Almost limp with relief, Yukiko rode out the last waves of her climax.  Blood rushed back to her head, bringing with it the sound of ripping silk and a wonderful warm glow that seemed to suffuse her entire body.  Her thin, girlish thighs grew round and shapely, straining against the confines of her too-tight kimono—which, thankfully, quickly tore to release her mature hips and ass.  The remaining silk pulled tightly around the curve of her calves—her knees—and all the way up to reveal bands of pale, full thigh shining through the shredded edges.  The destroyed garment even left a convenient gap to slip a hand through and finger herself, but her attention was drawn to how her swelling breasts pushed through the front of her ragged, ruined kimono.  She hefted one in her hand, the heavy, alien weight growing familiar as the warm sensation slowly ebbed.

Again, she felt exhausted: not the terrified exhaustion of being lost in an endless nightmare, but instead the glowing exhaustion that followed an incredible fucking—taking charge and riding a boy for all he was worth.  Young, willing to please, and eager to give in to a woman like her, with age and experience on her side.

Yukiko wasn’t sure where those last thoughts had come from, but she enjoyed the idea.  The thought of seducing silly boys two decades her junior—she’d be thirty-eight come her next birthday—made her wet more than anything else.  She gazed at the young princess in the seat across, her playful smirk the equal of the girl’s aghast shock.  “Enjoy the show?”

“N-No!” The princess blushed.  “Of course not.”

“Oh?”  Yukiko laughed.  “You’re a terrible liar, little girl.”  She plucked at an unbroken strand of pink silk that dug at her curvy thigh, and two holes became one.

“Come on…Me,” the princess whimpered.  There was a tone of fear and dread in her voice that hadn’t existed before.  “You know this isn’t you.  It’s not us!”

“Hmm.”  Yukiko sensed there was something true to the girl’s words, but the exhausted satisfaction of her orgasm still left a thick haze over her recollections.  “I admit, something does feel off, but I don’t know.”

“Ahem.”  Hilde cleared her throat.  “If I may, Ms. Amagi, perhaps you’d care for something to help clear your head?”

The princess squeaked.  “No, no, no.  Whatever she’s offering, don’t do it!”

Hilde fanned herself.  “Oh, I assure you it’s harmless.  Just a little something to enjoy after the taste of that sake.”

Yukiko smiled.  “Is that right?”  The promise of another wonderful treat from her charming hostess pulled her attention away from the princess’s concerns.  “Well, don’t hold out on me now.”

Hilde folded her fan, revealing a long, thin trinket in her hands: a _kiseru_ , a tobacco pipe of traditional Japanese design.  “A little smoke to accompany your drink?”

Yukiko accepted the pipe and inspected it.  The ornate sculpting around the small, golden bowl resembled the head of a fierce bird—a hawk or falcon—and the etchings around the mouthpiece invoked the idea of a roaring flame.  She ran her finger along the lacquer coating of the bamboo shaft.  Painted black, it was decorated with vibrant red feathers that spiraled from end to end.  “I can’t say that I’ve ever—smoking is unhealthy, after all.”

“It is.”  The princess piped up.  “Please don’t do it.”

Yukiko shrugged, and the sleeves of her dead kimono slipped from their tenuous hold on her shoulders.  “Well, I don’t see the harm in indulging our host.”  She looked up at Hilde, who now held a pouch of tobacco in hand.  Taking the cue, Yukiko raised the bowl of the pipe to her.  “You’re quite generous.”

Hilde pinched a small ball of tobacco from the pouch and set it in the shallow bowl.  “Here you are, Ms. Amagi.  Enjoy.”  She closed the bag and stepped back.  “I know I will.”

“You will?”  Yukiko glanced at the shy, quiet princess with a wry grin.  “Certainly nothing ominous in her words now, is there?”

“Please, just put it down,” the Shadow pleaded.  “She’s tricking you.”

Yukiko pretended not to hear.  She looked around for the fire pot to start the light.  “I’m sorry.  Did you say something?”

“J-Just look at yourself.”  The princess pointed at the destroyed mockery of the pink kimono that Yukiko wore.  “Does any of this really make sense to you?”

Yukiko frowned at the girl, and then looked down at herself.  Indeed, her kimono was a ruin: filthy, shredded, and in no way sized for her.  Did the princess have a point?  Why was she dressed in such a bedraggled fashion?  _Something doesn’t fit here._   As she pondered her peculiar state, she raised the kiseru in her hand.  Faint smoke wafted at her nostrils.  She lifted her gaze to the pipe.  “When was this lit?”

“Me?”  The princess whimpered.  “C-Come on now, you’re so close.  Please.”

_I’ll judge it for myself, girl._ Her interest in the pipe reignited by the scent of the burning tobacco, Yukiko put her lips to the mouthpiece and gave it an experimental inhale.  Smoke flowed down into her lungs, and a relaxing wave fell over her.  With the poise of an experienced smoker, she closed her eyes and blew a plume into the air, the questions she had only a moment ago blowing away with it.  “Ooh, that feels nice.”

“Please, Me,” the Shadow moaned.  “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Yukiko eyed the princess with a relaxed smirk.  “As I said before, there’s no harm in indulging a little.”  She took another drag from her pipe.  Days of sweat, soil, and grime cleared from her skin.  She ran a hand through her soft hair, now filled with renewed luster.

“But—” the princess piped up, and then bit her tongue.  Her frustration was clear.

Blowing a second plume in the air, Yukiko ran a hand from the back of her neck to the top of her breasts.  The smooth, clean feel of her skin reminded her of climbing out of a long, hot bath at the family inn.  “Come now.  There’s nothing to fear.”

The Shadow seemed to strain against some invisible force, and then fell back against her seat.  “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Why should I?”  Yukiko teased the princess with a faux curious posture, then brought the pipe to her lips a third time.  The silk tatters that dangled from her body shifted and flowed across her flesh, reforming into a new kimono that fit her mature curves.  Patches of crimson leaked into the pink fabric and spread throughout, a rain of scattered black feathers following.  The sash reformed at Yukiko’s waist as she exhaled: a shimmering pattern of black and jade stripes.  She leaned forward and smirked at the young, foolish princess.  “You’re not me, little girl.”

Yukiko’s words struck the Shadow like the sharp talons of a long-imprisoned bird.  Lip quivering, she tugged at her long skirt.  “N-No.”  Her voice tightened.  “You’re not.  But, but—”

“But?” Yukiko asked.

The Shadow’s golden eyes filled with tears.  “It’s not fair.  I wanted you to say that, but not like this.”  She screamed, long and thin, before choking back a sob like some strangled nightingale.  “I… I’m supposed to be you.  I _am_.  I don’t understand.”

Yukiko laughed.  “Oh, little girl, you don’t have to cry.  I was just as naïve and simple as you when I was your age.”  She took a drag from her pipe, and a light tingle spread from her lips to the rest of her face.  Bare skin became coated in a layer of foundation and light rouge.  Sultry eyeshadow painted her eyelids and deep red lipstick colored her lips.  She lowered the pipe, eyes locked on the crying princess before her, and leaned forward.  A wicked idea came to mind.

Lunging forward, Yukiko clutched the crying princess by the jaw, her lacquered red nails biting into the soft hollows of the girl’s cheeks.  Wide golden eyes stared back in horror as Yukiko pulled her quarry toward her, onto the low table.  Brought to kneel, the princess whimpered and whined.  _What’s the matter, little girl?  Where’s your fight?  Where’s that arrogance you tried so hard—and failed—to hurt me with?_

She parted her lips and a plume of thick smoke blew up into the Shadow’s face.  The princess clutched at her throat, whines and whimpers cut short by a fit of coughing.  Smirking, Yukiko released her, letting the girl slide back onto the abandoned couch before retaking her own seat.

 “Feel better, little girl?”  Yukiko laughed, her voice smoke-roughened, but still rich and throaty.  “Are you done with your crying?”

There was a long pause as the princess caught her breath.  She lifted her head and gazed at the older woman; the fear, frustration, and anguish were gone, replaced with a new longing and admiration in her sparkling brown eyes.  “Y-Yes.  I-I feel so much better, Ma’am!”

“Mmm.”  Yukiko appraised the girl.  The little princess was so very much like a younger, sheltered Yukiko; the more she examined her, the stronger the connection she felt.  “You can be an emotional twit, girl, but I do see a little bit of myself in you.  A little.”

The princess gasped, wide-eyed.  “Y-You do?  Really?”

Yukiko raised her kiseru near her face and beckoned the girl toward her.  “Here.  Let me get a good, close look at you.”

The princess shifted forward, legs pressing against the edge of the table, looking up at Yukiko with an innocent, almost vapid expression in her auburn eyes.  Trusting, like a curious puppy.  “I-Is this close enough?  Do you want me closer, Ma’am?”

“Yes, closer.”  Yukiko pointed to the table’s edge.  “Kneel here.”

The soft sounds of silk-gloved hands and a frilly skirt running and rustling against wood were joined by the princess’s eager breaths.  Atop the table, on her knees, she crossed her hands in her lap.  “Is this close enough, Ma’am?”

Yukiko licked her lips.  “Perfect.”  She reached out and stroked the princess’s cheek.  “Oh, so delicate you are, little girl.”  With a gentle hand, she held the princess’s chin and leaned in.  “So sweet and innocent.”  Soft vanilla perfume reached Yukiko’s nose, and the older woman leered.  Even her choice of scent was girlish—nothing like the heady blend of sandalwood and red rose that Yukiko wore.  “You really do have so much to learn.”

She moved in and kissed the princess, her red lips on the girl’s soft pink, her tongue invading the younger mouth.  Yukiko sensed no resistance, no desire to turn and run.  The little hesitation she felt from the girl was, she reasoned, due only to inexperience and the uncertainty of how to respond.  The princess remained still, a gasp caught by the kiss the only sound she made until Yukiko broke away, hand still at the girl’s chin.

“I…Oh, Ma’am, oh my…” the startled princess stammered, caught between savoring the kiss and breathing.

“Do you wish to know me, little girl?” Yukiko asked.  Her question was as much taunting as it was inquisitive.

“Yes!”  The princess spoke without a second thought.  “Oh, yes, Ma’am!”

“Is that so?”  Yukiko twirled the kiseru between her fingers.  “Then, do you wish to _be_ me?”

“I do.  I really do.”  The princess gazed at Yukiko in full reverence.  “I want to be you, Ma’am.”

“Mmm.”  Yukiko took a puff of smoke and gave it a gentle blow into the air above the princess’s head before looking again into those eager, slightly-less-innocent eyes.  She pulled the girl’s lips toward hers, heart racing as she prepared her new pupil for a second kiss.  “Then let us consider this your first lesson.”

*             *             *             *

The scene froze.  The older Yukiko fell still with a seductive, hungry grin, and the younger princess awaited her lesson with a look of pure devotion in the shine of her glass eyes.  Hilde leaned over the display, eager to examine her new work of art: two beautiful, life-size dolls of porcelain forever posed in a passionate moment.

“Oh, they’re perfect, my dear Aqua.”  She glanced at her clockwork maid.  “So elegant and beautiful, aren’t they?  And such contrasts.  Ms. Amagi and her little Shadow friend couldn’t have turned out better.”

Hilde bent to examine the dolls in their every detail.  The long, beautiful black hair in the style they both shared.  The frilly princess gown and the elegant kimono.  The clash of experienced vice with a curious purity.  _To think that little miss princess was ever the more flirtatious and outgoing one._   She looked into the more mature, domineering Yukiko’s seductive, golden eyes.

_The color trade really does give Ms. Amagi a much stronger allure.  Why, she looks ready to just eat the little princess all up._

Hilde fanned herself.  “My dear Aqua, do clean up after our guests while I prepare to move them into my gallery.”  She laughed to herself, almost giddy with delight.  Finally, after all her preparations, she had her first masterpiece fit for a proper display.  “And I need to think of a proper title for this piece, as well.”  Pondering the question, she folded her fan, tapping it against her chin as her gaze roved from the larger, sandalwood and rose-scented doll to the smaller that smelled of gentle vanilla.

It was vital that she get this right; there was nothing worse than a work of art being misunderstood because of a poor name.  But this pair provided so many possibilities.  _Even a witch as powerful as myself can’t simply conjure names without thought.  A shame, really._   ‘ _The Madame and the Princess’?  No, I can do better than that.  ‘Wolf and Pup’?  Too plain, and it doesn’t fit.  ‘Sugar and Spi—'_   A fierce tap of the fan against her chin.  _That’s just overdone and desperate.  But maybe…_

She stepped back, the whole scene in full view: the lascivious woman eager to corrupt her own younger self.  “I’ll call it…”


End file.
